


Maybe, Probably, Yes

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-18
Updated: 2008-01-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: She was the gem of the Black family, he was everything that would tarnish her for them. A Dorea/Charlus Potter fic...R&R is LOVED:)





	Maybe, Probably, Yes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

** Maybe, Probably, Yes **

** Part One: Maybe **

She twisted a lock of  platinum hair around her finger, staring intently at her reflection in the mirror.  Startling green eyes looked back at her, partially hidden long lashes under her arched brow. She smiled coyly, reaching for the rouge on her vanity. It was the final touch to her look, her skin was like porcelain and she had pinned her hair so that just a few loose curls framed her face. _Perfect_ , she thought, admiring the effect.

 

Of course, everything about her was perfect. She was Dorea Black, the youngest daughter of Cygnus and Violetta Black and the gem of the Black Family tree. That’s what her father always told her anyways. Certainly there was her older brother Pollux and his children Cygnus and Druella who, admittedly, were not the much younger than Dorea herself. However, they certainly had not inherited any of the charm of beauty that Dorea had. Even her own sister, Cassiopeia, lacked the smooth angles and luster Dorea had. Cassiopeia was ten years her senior and had been given the label of ‘old maid’ of the Black family. Her gray eyes had lost the vivacity they had once held and her parents had given up years ago on trying to convince Cassiopeia, or Cass as Dorea called her, to remarry. For she had been engaged once, a very long time ago, but for some reason the marriage had never happened. Dorea had been to young to understand what was going and had been silenced every time she had asked, and so had eventually just accepted that she would never know why Cass was so unhappy.

She pinned her shiny head girl badge to her robes, just above the jade and silver serpent emblem. She admired the effect briefly before hurrying downstairs to where her mother was calling her. Violetta Black had fixed a sheer black veil on her hat so that it just covered her eyes as she complained loudly about all the muggle traffic on the was to King’s Cross Station. Cygnus grumbled in accordance as Dorea stared absent mindedly out the window at the passing cars.

“Dorea? Aren’t you listening to me?”

She looked up, the car had stopped and her mother had turned around to face her and had lifted the silly black veil from her eyes.

“Sorry, what were you asking Mother?”

Her mother turned around and fished in her quilted leather bag and pulled out a small silver compact, examining herself in the precise manner Dorea had earlier that morning.

“I had asked you if you knew who was going to be head boy this year, no doubt Armando will have chosen a boy from another house, seeing as you are in Slytherin.”

“Yes, Professor Dippet mentioned it in the letter that accompanied my badge. Charlus Potter is head boy this year, he’s a Gryffindor I think.”

“Charlus Potter? Really? That’s Ignatius and Cecily’s son isn’t it, Cygnus dear? Probably pro Ministry just like his parents...it’s such a waste when a dignified pure blood family is so soft on Muggles.”

“Well at least he’s not a Weasley.” Her father chimed in as he parked the car.

“Yes well, thank Merlin for small graces.” Her mother sighed as she got out of the car and slammed it shut. 

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, her parents said their usual goodbyes, her mother sniffed a bit while her father solemnly kissed her forehead before she hurried to board the train. She and Charlus patrolled for the first hour or two aboard before retreating to the heads and prefect compartment for it was now late afternoon. All of the prefects were either still on duty in the halls or had returned to their own friends and so Dorea and Charlus were left quite alone. She seated herself lazily, staring out the window, twirling a piece of her hair absent mindedly.

“We are going to have a lot to do this year.”

She looked up, Charlus was seated opposite her, his right foot resting on his left knee casually. Why was he talking to her? Certainly, they had to work together this year but that didn’t mean they had to make small talk to fill the silence. 

“What are you talking about Potter?”

“Grindelwald, his campaign across Eastern Europe is spreading, it’s not long before it reaches us. He’s thrown countless people in Numengard for no reason at all except for their ancestry. It’s no wonder people here are scared, it could happen just as easily in England.”

“Why do you care? You’re blood is a pure as anyone else’s.” She scoffed. 

He looked at her incredulously, she hated being looked at like that. She was a Black and though most people didn’t realize it, she was confident that she just as brilliant as she was beautiful.

“You can’t be serious! Are you really that selfish? Don’t you realize what a campaign like that would mean for England? For Hogwarts? It would be disastrous! How can you be so ignorant?”

She held up her hand and examined her cuticles before answering.

“Ignorance is bliss.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you are wasting your breath.”

It wasn’t that she particularly cared about being pure blood, certainly it had advantages but she certainly wasn’t as pro pure blood as her parents, and even less so than her brother Pollux. However, that didn’t mean she had to go gallivanting after noble causes. If they were going to be disputes between purebloods and muggle borns, who was she to say anything about it? She could go on living her charmed life while they fought, she didn’t have to take such an empathetic interest in the matter.

“Spoken like a true Black.”

Now he’d hit a nerve.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What isn’t it supposed to mean? Everyone knows the Blacks are the absolute worst of the purebloods. You all marry your cousins because you’re too pompous to mix up the gene pool. So you all end up arrogant and simple because you marry for advantage rather than love.”

“There are things more important than love.”

He sank back into the cushy bench of the car, observing her. His expression was unreadable, she wasn’t certain if he was going to start making ridiculous accusations about her supposed ignorance again or if he was going to get up and walk out of the compartment altogether. Though as it happened, he did neither. He turned to his right and watched as the train sped past a vast lake and distant hills, beautiful and terrible at the same time in the glow of the setting red sun. It was not for a long while that either of them spoke.

“No, there isn’t.” He said quietly. 

She didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. He believed that there was nothing more important that love. _What a fool_ , she thought. Love like that didn’t exist, certainly affection existed in marriage, maybe even lust but definitely not real, true, undying _love_. That kind of love existed only in fairy tales and she had out grown make believe stories a long time ago.

This would not be the only time that Charlus Potter would surprise her with his ideals. The entirety of her seventh year she was constantly being preached about what was good and what was bad and why. She heard about it in prefect meetings, corridor patrols, classes and Hogsmeade trips. She heard his opinions on all kinds of topics, most of which bore no interest for her. 

But there was something about his spirit and passion for these subjects that enthralled her, she became more interested in the rights and protection of muggle borns and house elves and werewolves. She wondered how one person could care so much about something that didn’t affect him. His family was as rich and as noble as hers, well nearly. He was tall and broad and handsome and could be as arrogant and proud as anyone if he wanted to but instead he was modest and empathetic and sincere. He was, in short, unlike anyone she had ever met.

A fact he remained completely oblivious of. Though, Dorea had to admit, if there was ever someone who was completely oblivious, it was Charlus. He didn’t notice the way  girls fawned over him, he didn’t notice them staring in the hallways or hanging around the common room as he finished up his Charms essay. He didn’t notice but Dorea did. However, she didn’t notice that the admiring looks he was always receiving were not very different from the way she had begun to look at him. 

It was the end of seventh year by the time she could admit to herself that she admired him. The way he laughed at her sarcastic comments, the way he took them in stride, often returning the gesture. She admired his good nature and his steadiness in comparison to her own superfluous extravagance. She thought for weeks about how to tell him all this but she could never seem to think of how to say it.

The air was getting warmer and the days were getting longer as her time with him was growing shorter. She began to wonder what would happen if she didn’t tell him, to graduate and to grow up and never see him again. She wondered what she would become, what he would become, but mostly she wondered if he would miss her at all.

Graduation day came, finally. It was a clear sunny day on the grounds of Hogwarts and little white folding chairs and a make shift stage had been erected on the grounds for the ceremony. She had walked across the stage, received her certificate, with honours, from Professor Dippet, and shook Professor Dumbledore’s hand as he congratulated her. 

He had come to find her after the ceremony, her parents had already gone with the others up to the Great Hall but a few students mingled , lagging behind on the grounds, trying desperately to hold onto the memories they were about to leave behind and replace.

She was standing by the shore of the lake with him, looking down at the glassy water enjoying the silence and his company. She looked up and a slow smile spread across his face.

“So, we’re finally done. It seems like yesterday that we were patrolling the Hogwarts Express. I can’t believe it’s really over.”

She shrugged in agreement. He followed her gaze across the water where enormous tentacles were breaking through the surface sending hundreds of glistening droplet across the water. He placed his hand on her shoulder, he told her how much he had appreciated working with her this year, how he hoped she would succeed in life. The usual meaningless and redundant graduation spiel of encouragement and promises that weren’t really promises. He ended on an odd note, she thought, expressing his wish to run into her again someday. She laughed to herself at the thought as he hugged her close, and she laughed at herself for wishing she could stay right there in his arms. To stay safe and protected in an ever complicated world, with his steadfast voice whispering words of promise, real promises, in her ear.  

As he walked away, up the sloping grassy hill towards the entrance doors, she couldn’t help but stand there and watch him. She knew her parents would be looking for her, her friends too would wonder where she was but she paid no mind to these thoughts.

As his robes billowed behind him, she couldn’t help but recollect the moment on the train all those months ago. Her thoughts were clouded with his words and his expression. Tides of moments and shared smiles were drifting through her thoughts along with the realization that maybe he had had a point about it. Maybe she, maybe her family, had been wrong. Maybe love was most important after all, just maybe. 

 

**_A/N- So I am not sure if this is quite as long as I wanted it to be. I might add some more in at a later date. I do hope you liked this! It is a little different and was something that just popped into my head yesterday. I do have a good idea of the next chapter in my head so hopefully it won't be too long before it is updated...and I have already figured out the epiloque which I am actually rather looking forward to writing. So please please please review because I love to read them! Cheers! xo LC_ **

**_ps- the next chapter of 'Everything' is in the works for anyone who is interested:)_ **


End file.
